Going by the title, you all thought I was going to write about a huge white bear of a questionable sexual orientation, huh? Well, no. Not so much.
If you know anybody who knows anybody who knows somebody who has bipolar disorder, then you yourself have asked or you have heard someone else ask, "Why don't they take their medicine?"
By now, we all know someone for whom "nutty" is the overall consensus. If the one of this description is someone with money, we do not call that person "nutty." We call them "eccentric." I am unsure as to why we do this. It is not like the wealthy need more breaks in this life. Nevertheless, it is probable, possible, or likely that this person has Bipolar Disorder and is not medicated.
Having bipolar disorder affects so many areas of my life. It affects my sleep, mood, mind, energy, thought processes, sense of well-being, and much more. The fact that I am entirely too overwhelmed to try and effectively complete this sentence speaks to the status of my disposition.
With no segue or boisterous musical introduction, we come to medicating my disorder. I take my medicine for now. I have taken it for the past few months, as soon as the diagnosis was made, and I wonder if I hate them.
I miss the mania. I miss the colors, the sounds, the breathless wide-eyed optimistic love of life, the supersonic energy, the courage to pester strangers in public, and the visible sparks of inspiration. I miss me.
I am still not as perky as one on anti-depressants could or should be.
Catherine B. of San Francisco says, “It has literally taken years to get the right combinations of medications so that I can live my life with as few side effects as possible."